


The Tears of the Fallen

by sinestrated



Series: Ballads [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Original Character(s), Paz is stupid, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinestrated/pseuds/sinestrated
Summary: An attack by a deadly bounty hunter nearly costs them everything, leading Paz and Din to realize what’s truly important.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Ballads [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628653
Comments: 25
Kudos: 257





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: "Paz Vizsla Encounters Awful Wildlife, the Sequel"
> 
> I’m actually fairly embarrassed at the sheer amount of sap dripping from this. Also, heed the tags - the next (and final) story in this series is already written, and it's a wedding! So don't worry. :)

Gatherings in the Covert were pretty rare. Mandalorians tended to discuss issues or pass on information only with close others, or one-to-one with the Armorer. For their leader to call a sudden assembly in the forge first thing in the morning, Thalkikk’s sun barely breaking dawn outside, was significant.

Still, Din found he wasn’t too worried. In fact, one could go so far as to describe him as downright cheerful, and why not? His child was safely ensconced at the breakfast table with Avi and Lyrr, burbling happily as they fed them warm soup. The Covert around him was doing well, if the fully two dozen other Mandalorians crowded in the room, each one outfitted beautifully in full beskar, was any indication. And, of course, there was that other thing.

One of the two adults behind him yawned, the sound scratchy through his modulator. “So whaddaya think this is for?”

His companion shrugged. “Damned if I know. Gotta be important though, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. Think it has to do with the party last night?”

“Who knows? M’head hurts like a bitch, though.”

Din grinned.

The first Mandalorian scratched his stomach and yawned again. “Man, maybe next time she can at least wait till the fuckin’ sun comes u—oh, mornin’, Vizsla.”

Din’s smile only widened at the low, irritable grunt. Seconds later heavy bootsteps came up next to him before a broad, warm palm slid under his cape to rest against the small of his back. “Hi,” Paz grumbled.

Din turned to him, grateful for the helm hiding his amusement. Paz Vizsla looked...well, like a proper heavy infantry Mandalorian, sure, but also like he’d recently been run over by a tank. The neckline of his black shirt was wrinkled, he hadn’t shaved judging by the scruff just visible beneath his chin, and his right pauldron was just a bit lopsided. Din shook his head and reached up to adjust it. “Had a good time last night after I left, did you?”

“Hrrgh.” Paz hung his head, practically oozing regret. “ _ Why _ did I take Sal’s bet again?”

“Because you can’t turn down a drinking contest, apparently.” Din smoothed his thumb down the sleek beskar, feeling as always a little skip in his heart as he traced the signet, the outline of the  _ jai’galaar _ solid and comforting. “Who won, by the way?”

Paz shrugged, but then one of the Mandalorians who spoke previously piped up, “Sal, of course,” and Din chuckled, turning to them.

“Really? How many?”

“Lost count. But he definitely keeled over first.”

“Damn. You’re losing your touch, Paz.” 

“Don’t worry.” The first Mandalorian inclined his head. “Your man put up a good fight.”

_ Your man. _ Din didn’t think he could grin wider.

They’d been together for almost a year now, ever since that fateful night in the hangar outside the Razor Crest. When they’d finally made it to the forge, scuffing their boots like chastised schoolchildren, the Armorer just gave a great, exasperated sigh before dutifully molding Paz a new  _ aliik’gam _ from Din’s beskar. She’d then instructed them in no uncertain terms never to waste her time with their drama again, but Din couldn’t even feel sheepish, too busy being completely, all-consumingly  _ happy. _

And he’d stayed that way the entire past year, as he and Paz slowly felt out this thing between them, feeding and nurturing and forming it into something solid and shining and beautiful. The rest of the Covert welcomed the news with open arms (even opener after Paz cheerfully threw the first one who attempted to tease them out a window), and to say the kids were delighted would be the understatement of the century. Almost two years after receiving a strange bounty and tracing its clues to a tiny living unit on Thalkikk, Din Djarin finally had what he’d always wanted: a family.

He really couldn’t ask for anything more...well. He leaned into Paz a bit, sighing when the large hand at his back slid obediently around his waist, fingers dipping under his shirt to caress the bare skin of his hip. There was one thing they hadn’t talked about yet, that Din hadn’t yet asked Paz for. And as the months continued on and his love for the other Mandalorian just kept growing, blossoming into warmth and desire and thrumming connection, he was starting to think this was the logical next step.

Would Paz want to get married again? Din thought so. They’d never really brought it up, but the rare times he spoke about Kian it was with fondness and warmth, no hint of regret. As for Din, he’d never had a serious relationship before Paz, but the older Mandalorian was also the first person to make him desperately crave a future where it wasn’t just him and the child. That meant something, to say the least.

Maybe it was time to ask. Maybe it was time to cement their happiness for good.

“Thank you for your patience.”

The room rippled as everyone straightened to attention. The Armorer walked in, golden helm flawless and glinting in the forge’s firelight, and nodded to them all. “It’s unfortunate that we must call this assembly on such short notice, but I hope you will all come to understand why momentarily.”

She turned to her left. “Jied Vizsla.”

Paz’s daughter stepped obediently forward. Din blinked and turned to Paz, who just shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on either. As far as Din knew, Jied had left the party last night even earlier than he had, headed out to do a perimeter check around the city as was her wont as a scout. Had she been out all night?

Jied straightened her shoulders. “As I was finishing up my rounds this morning around zero-four,” she said, “I came across a group of Thalkikk law enforcement. They’d discovered a body stuffed in a storage room near the market. A human male.” She took a deep breath. “I believe it to be Kur Tamna.”

Whispers all around. Din’s blood ran cold. Kur was one of them, a comms operator, quiet but friendly. Just last week he’d helped them install a new hyperspace relay on the Razor Crest. And now he was dead?

The Armorer lifted a palm and the room quieted. She nodded at Jied, who continued, a little shaky, “His...all his armor was gone, including his helm. I don’t know if he was still alive when it was taken, but he was violated nonetheless.”

An angry rumble from Paz, the hand at Din’s hip tightening. He leaned closer to bump his shoulder against a broad blue chestplate, and was rewarded with a gentle stroke up his spine as the Armorer’s voice rang out across the forge. “Aside from committing such a high crime against one of our own,” she said, “the perpetrator of this...this  _ sacrilege _ may even now be searching for a way to offload Tamna’s beskar for their profit. From this point forward, stay on high alert. Press your contacts to see if anyone has been looking to trade in beskar, or has obtained illegal transport off Thalkikk. Keep the little ones within sight at all times. We will protect this Covert and avenge our comrade. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

As the others nodded and dispersed, talking in low, angry voices, Din waited with Paz. Sure enough, Jied paused just long enough for a quick exchange with the Armorer before heading over to them. “ _ Buir. _ Din.”

“You okay?” Din asked, and she sighed.

“Yeah, I think so. It wasn’t...they didn’t let me get too close, just...close enough.”

Paz nodded. “How long?”

“Dunno...a few days, maybe? The body, uh, looked it.” Her shoulders slumped. “I just...I think about us having so much fun last night, drinking and laughing while Kur was just  _ lying _ there—”

“No, don’t do that, sweet.” Paz stepped forward to cup the back of his daughter’s neck. “You didn’t know. None of us did.”

“If there’s anyone we should be pissed at it’s the one who did this,” Din added. “Do you know where Kur was last seen?”

Jied shook her head, leaning briefly into her father before straightening again. “ _ Ijaa’lor _ is going to head the investigation. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her this angry.”

“She’s not the only one.” Paz shook his head. “Shit, I thought we were over this. I thought we were  _ safe. _ ”

Din reached out, stroking his thumb over the back of his partner’s hand. “We  _ are _ safe. Whoever killed Kur isn’t getting into the Covert. They don’t even know where we are.”

“We assume,” Jied said, but before Din could answer the control unit on his vambrace beeped. An incoming message routed through the Crest. Origin: Nevarro.

“Huh. Hang on.” He released Paz’s hand, lifted his arm, and pressed a button. The unit hummed and projected the now-familiar cone of blue light, resolving slowly into none other than Carasynthia Dune.

“Hey,” his friend said, taking a moment to toss a wayward lock of hair out of her face. “Don’t got a lot of time—‘bout to head off on a bounty—but wanted to ping this your way. Job came through the Guild, client’s looking for his lost little sister or something. Last known location is Tal-Agu, which is, what, four systems away from you? And get this,” and here her voice dropped, “He says the reason the family lost his sister in the first place is because she went off to train to be one of those  _ Jetii _ people.”

Din’s breath froze in his throat. Next to him, Jied and Paz did identical startled shifts, turning to look at each other. On the little holoprojection, Cara continued, “Anyway, he’s paying in beskar and, you know, I thought this might be up your alley. Could be total bullshit, of course, but we gotta take the chance, right? So I’ve attached the info. Good luck, Din. Tell the kid Aunt Cara loves them! Gotta go!”

The transmission ended. Din stared down at the empty space above his vambrace, head spinning.  _ Jetii. _ Those ancient enemies of Mandalore, mysterious beings who wielded dark magic like the deadliest of weapons. Who could hold the key to unlocking the identity of his child.

He had to go. The child’s powers were growing, more every day it seemed, and though he loved them with a fierceness that scared him some days, it was still his duty to try to reunite them with their people. If the  _ Jetii _ were the link to the child’s history, then Din owed it to them to at least  _ try. _

“You’re going.” Jied straightened up at Din’s nod. “I want to come. It’s...after what happened with Kur, I just don’t want to be here right now.”

“All right.” Din looked to Paz. “And you? If we really do run into the  _ Jetii _ ...”

His partner nodded. “I’ll bring my big gun.”

#

Several hours later, Din blinked and turned from the swirling stars of hyperspace to regard Jied as she dropped into the copilot’s chair with a sigh. “Can’t sleep?”

The younger Mandalorian shook her head. “Always sucked at sleeping in space, even as a kid. You can ask  _ Buir. _ Apparently I was a terror on ships.”

“You’re a terror now.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m pretty.”

He imagined a grin under her helm matching his own. This, also, he was grateful for: that he hadn’t managed to destroy their relationship a year ago after all. They hadn’t quite known how to behave around each other those first few weeks, conversations awkward and stilted, until finally Paz had thrown up his hands and asked if they needed to fight each other again, he wouldn’t interfere this time if it would put them out of their misery. It’d been enough to diffuse the tension, and over the next year Din and Jied had found their footing again, bantering and teasing and loving each other, secure in the knowledge that they shared the same goal of making Paz happy.

Which, all things considered, made his next words easy. “So I’ve been thinking...”

“Uh oh,” Jied said, and he kicked her chair, savoring her startled squeak.

“Shut up. I’ve been thinking, um, about the future.” He took a deep breath. “With your father.”

“Okay...” Jied tilted her head. “You mean like, what he’s making for dinner next week or—oh.  _ Oh. _ ”

Her entire body stiffened, so Din turned to face her fully. He needed her to know he meant this, that he was serious. She was the one who’d been with Paz the longest, who had seen him through all his times of grief and loss but also joy and hope. She was Paz’s child, quite possibly the only person in the universe who loved him more than Din did, so he needed her to  _ know. _

“I don’t know what it’s going to be like in the future,” he said. “But I know what it’s been like this past year, and Jied, I can’t even describe...he’s just. He’s  _ it _ for me. And I know we still butt heads sometimes and get into the dumbest fights but also he’s  _ everything,  _ and I know marrying him means marrying you and the kids too and I just want you to know I—wait. Are you. Are you  _ crying? _ ”

“No!” Jied lied, sniffling wetly under her helm.

Din reached forward to take her hand. “Jied...”

“It’s just...” She wrapped her fingers around his, trembling. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. How long he’s waited, how much he  _ deserves _ ...he’s just had it so shitty all his life, Din, and then you came along and it. Just.” She swallowed, lifting her helm to look straight at him. “Do you know he smiles  _ all the time _ now? I know you can’t see it, but he does. And it’s  _ so good _ to see, because before he’d smile for us, sure, but it was never for himself and now you’re here and he’s just so different.  _ Happy. _ ”

She sniffed again, tightening her grip on his hand. “It makes me want you here, Din. It...It makes me want to show you my face.”

He stared at her, breathing in the gravity of her words. It was a huge admission by the standards of the Creed. It meant Jied wanted them to be family. It meant she saw him as clan.

But then, he realized suddenly, was that really such a big deal? Because even before he and Paz started this wonderful, glowing thing between them, he’d always regarded the older Mandalorian with respect and a healthy amount of awe. Sure, they’d scuffled once on Nevarro, but that had been all it was: a disagreement, and Paz had had no qualms about showing up to save his ass later that day, descending from the sky with the other Mandalorians like vengeful dragons. That was just who Paz Vizsla was: someone whose temper flared hot and wild like a meteor, but when he returned to the ground he was still the earth beneath your feet, solid and unshakeable. That was who he was to Din now.

Maybe he’d always loved Paz, even before Thalkikk, or Nevarro, or the Purge or the bunker or any of it. Maybe this was simply what it meant to be born one half of a whole. And if he and Paz were meant to be clan, then of course the same held true for Jied, Avi, and Lyrr. They were always meant to reach this point together. So really, it was no surprise at all.

Exhaling, he leaned forward to rest his helm gently against Jied’s, feeling her tremble against him. “I take it you approve then.”

She hiccuped. “Yeah. How could you tell?”

He smiled at that, letting the feelings wash over him: contentment and wonder and, at long last, peace. “Thank you.” Did this mean he could...ah, fuck it. “Daughter.”

Jied’s answering laugh, both tearful and overjoyed, set the whole world to rights.

#

The planet of Tal-Agu, as it turned out, was the perfect place to go hunting a mysterious space sorceror.

The majority of the planet was ocean, bright blue and shimmering endless as far as the eye could see. A multitude of islands dotted the watery landscape, providing all sorts of places to hide and defend, especially since one could only access them by boat or specially-made aircraft whose engines wouldn’t get clogged by the perpetual dust storm in the skies. The islands themselves varied enormously in size and construction—some were artificial, most were not, and it was on one of the former that they met the client, a tall, gangly Klavak who looked about as out-of-place here as you’d expect of a desert species.

His name was Aduma, and he spoke with the sharp glottal stops and hissing fricatives of his people as he led Din and Paz over to his waiting ship. “I managed to negotiate a good price on it. The people here are rather simple, you see.”

Din hummed but didn’t answer. Aduma was polite enough, treating them with respect and clearly expressing worry for his sister, but he didn’t seem too fond of Tal-Agu’s locals who, as far as Din could tell, were an amphibian species who spoke little Basic and instead seemed to prefer communication via a collective hivemind. They’d mostly stayed out of the way since they landed the Razor Crest on one of Tal-Agu’s biggest islands, so Din didn’t quite know what to make of them himself, but the way Aduma’s scaly upper lip curled as he talked about them just rubbed Din the wrong way.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to be the only one affected. Next to him, Paz grunted and jerked his chin at the ship in question. “Looks like they can build well enough.”

This was true. The vaguely kite-shaped aircraft, though old and salt-encrusted, looked sturdy, giant engines thrumming as it awaited them. Aduma, for his part, just shrugged as he led them aboard. “You did not bring the jetpacks, correct? They will not work in the sky, with the dust.”

“Yeah, we left them with our third,” Paz said. Jied had chosen to stay behind and collect intel on the ground. Din, for once, was glad for it; she’d basically been a wired ball of energy ever since their conversation on the Crest, talking a mile a minute and seemingly unable to stop touching either Din or Paz. It had gotten to the point where Paz had actually gone sifting through their medkit to make sure the stimulants were still there, which, while it had made Din laugh, was also vaguely horrifying.

Still, he let it slide. If anything, Jied was just outwardly expressing the joy and hope he himself was feeling. He glanced sideways at Paz and couldn’t help but grin. No matter how this job went, whether they found the  _ Jetii _ or not, at least his future with this man would be assured.

In front of them, Aduma nodded. “That is good,” he said. “That is very good.”

The ship rumbled and slowly lifted off and away, the island below shrinking into a mere dot surrounded by deep, rippling azure. Din turned away from the mesmerizing view to regard Aduma as he set the controls for autocourse. “Which island is your sister on?”

The Klavak sighed, a harsh, sandy sound through the breathing slits on the sides of his neck. “That I am not sure of. There are so many, you see. So many places to disappear.”

“Well, can she communicate with you somehow?” Paz asked. “Since she’s, you know,  _ Jetii _ with all those powers or whatever.”

“Ah, yes.” The bright blue of the ocean below slowly faded into a soft pinkish-brown as they ascended into the thick, swirling organic dust that made up Tal-Agu’s skies. Aduma turned to face them, and suddenly Din didn’t like his expression at all, a flat, featureless mask, as if he’d carved the face off another Klavak and simply stuck it atop his own. His stomach dropped, all the alarm bells going off in his head even before Aduma said, in perfect, accentless Basic, “I knew mentioning the Jedi would get you here.”

Then, as Din stared, everything inside him turned cold and sick, Aduma’s face  _ collapsed. _

It was the only way to describe it: the sudden folding inward of the scales, the eyes, the mouth, every inch of the Klavak rippling and changing on a breath. Smooth skin revealed itself, purplish-gray with a light mucus-like sheen, and the instant those two giant, bulbous black eyes manifested and fixed on him Din scrambled back, goosebumps prickling up his arms. “Oh, fuck.  _ Yev. _ ”

Yev Kroobioona smiled like a dead thing. “Hello, Mando.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yev was probably the best bounty hunter the Guild, possibly the entire galaxy, had ever seen. Din had never run into him but he’d heard the rumors, how his shapeshifting abilities netted him even the most difficult and deadly bounties, how he’d been expelled from the Guild for torturing a target’s family for three weeks before finally killing them per the client’s request, and especially how he always worked with—

“Mother _ fucker! _ ” Paz drew his blaster and aimed it at Yev, but in the next instant one of the storage panels along the wall burst open and a giant brown shape shot out. Paz swore and only managed to save his arm by jumping back, the sleek, enormous sicklecat grabbing his blaster and crushing it between long, razor-edged fangs with no effort at all.

As the giant feline paced before them, golden eyes gleaming, two more sicklecats emerged from out of nowhere to join it, each one well over four feet at the shoulders, a deadly collection of spotted fur, sharp claws, and long, flicking barbed tails. Din swallowed and took a step back closer to Paz. He’d heard about them too, the three monsters Yev took with him on his bounties. Sicklecats were one of the deadliest predators in the galaxy, savage and fiercely feral. No one knew how Yev had managed to tame not one but three of them, and there was no doubt they were the reason you never wanted Yev Kroobioona to come after you.

Yet here he was, watching them with a look of utter disinterest as the ship rocked around them. “I’m glad the bait worked. Thalkikk’s air dries out my skin.”

“Thalkikk?” Cold dread shuddered down Din’s spine. “Wait.  _ Kur. _ ”

“Oh yes, the other Mandalorian.” Yev lifted a four-fingered hand to inspect his nails. “Had to kill him, unfortunately, to take his armor. I can only change my skin, not the clothes.”

“Wait, you...” Paz’s voice was stretched taut, a mixture of fear and rage. “So when Kur came to patch up the Crest, it wasn’t him, it was...”

Yev glanced at him and shrugged. Something rippled in his throat-flaps, and when he opened his mouth, a hauntingly-familiar voice came out. “ _ Tell the kid Aunt Cara loves them! Gotta go! _ ”

Din bit down on the moan that shivered up his throat. He remembered Kur last week, skinny legs sticking out from beneath the Crest’s console as he talked them through the new relay he was installing. Din had thought it a little out-of-the-blue that the other Mandalorian would offer to help them upgrade their comms system, but Kur was well-liked in the Covert so he hadn’t thought more deeply about it. And now, to know that that hadn’t been Kur at all, that he’d let a monster like Yev walk around the Covert, slinking its halls, neighboring his  _ child... _

His child. 

“Gideon hired you.”

“Yee-up.” One of the sicklecats made an impatient growl; Yev set a hand on its thick furred collar, not gentle, not calming, but dominant. “Karga made sure you were off-limits to the Guild, so the Imp searched elsewhere. The reward he offered was sufficient.” 

“For the child?” Paz said, “or Din?”

“The highest reward is for both,” Yev answered, completely logical and matter-of-fact, as if Din and his foundling were simply items he’d pick up at the store on his way home. He tried not to shiver. This was what was most fearsome about Yev Kroobioona: of all the bounty hunters in the galaxy, he was the only one who actually  _ didn’t care. _ He didn’t care about who suffered or died, it only mattered that he got paid. Yev saw other people’s lives as commodities to be traded.

It made him a monster, yes. But it also made him  _ effective. _

Yev turned those giant night-black eyes back on him. “So after I’m done with you here I’ll wear your skin into the Covert and take the child,” he said, as if he were laying out what he was planning to make for lunch. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take care of the girl Mando along the way—ah, no, Blue, I wouldn’t do that.”

The sicklecats advanced on Paz, growling. He released his hold on his heavy gun with effort, hands trembling, and Din swallowed. Maybe Jied could still get out of here. If they missed their check-in maybe she’d pick up on the clue and fly back to Thalkikk, take the child and Avi and Lyrr and escape with them somewhere safe...

Except there wasn’t anyplace safe, not anywhere in the galaxy, not from someone like Yev. Jied could run with the kids the rest of her life and Yev would just continue hunting her down with cruel, tireless efficiency until he cornered her, tortured her, ripped her apart piece by piece...

He inhaled a deep breath, tried to will calm and focus with the exhale. No. He couldn’t count on Jied, or the Armorer or the tribe or anyone other than himself and Paz right here, right now. They were the only ones who could ensure the safety of those they loved. They had to stop Yev. There was no other option.

The legendary bounty hunter watched them with dead eyes, three giant cats circling hungrily within the confined space of the ship. Pink dust clouds swirled outside the open cargo door, hauntingly beautiful. Din took a deep breath and reached out to brush Paz’s elbow, resting his fingers against cloth where the vambrace ended.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Paz turned to look at him, shifted just enough so Din felt the telltale hexagonal edge of the tiny weapon tucked under the beskar. “Yeah,” he said, agreement and fierce reciprocity in one.

And they burst into motion.

Paz shot right and Din to the left, snatching the coin-sized metal hexagon from the pocket beneath Paz’s vambrace and hurling it at Yev. The dark-eyed bounty hunter yelled and darted sideways, one of his cats leaping out at Din—and the Inferno Web activated. 

Bright yellow light flashed across Din’s vision as the net deployed, shooting out across the cockpit. Yev howled, falling to the ground as he clutched his shoulder, arm severed halfway down to the elbow. His sicklecat wasn’t so lucky, blood and guts flying everywhere as giant hexagonal chunks of flesh rained to the ground like gruesome hail.

Paz, meanwhile, swung his heavy gun sideways, catching one of the other sicklecats in the jaw. As it went flying with a yowl its companion roared and launched forward and Paz staggered back with a grunt, shoving his gun up against furiously snapping jaws as long claws swiped at him, gouging huge scratches in the beskar. It was too close quarters for flamethrowers so Din launched his grappling hook instead. The solid steel point sang as it shot out from his vambrace to bury itself in the cat’s shoulder, and he grabbed the tether hard enough to cut and  _ yanked. _

With a screech the sicklecat flopped sideways, hook tearing from skin with a spray of blood. Paz didn’t wait; with an angry roar to match the cat’s he hooked his arms around its massive neck and hurled it sideways out the open door. Its furious yowl faded as it disappeared into the ocean below, and Din stared at Paz, panting, and felt hope surge up in his chest because they’d done it, they’d managed to defeat  _ Yev fucking Kroobioona _ and everything was going to be okay—

And then.

Movement, and Din yelled, “ _ Paz! _ ” as the final sicklecat leaped at his partner, two hundred pounds of pure muscle and fury. Paz cried out when it hit him, slammed him sideways right off his feet and Din tore forward as the tangle of brown and blue rolled and thumped and then  _ went out the door— _

He dove down, sliding across the ship’s smooth metal floor. Reached. Caught.  _ Pulled. _

His shoulder slammed into the edge of the cargo door with the force of a sledgehammer, agony singing up his bones but he grit his teeth and ignored it, instead tightening his grip as hard as he could. Right outside, wind and dust clouds tearing at his armor, Paz swore as he clung to Din’s hand, the only thing keeping him from falling into the ocean below. The sicklecat, not so lucky, howled as it shrank into nothing. There was no way Din was letting Paz do the same.

“Hang on!” He braced his free hand against the edge of the door, hissing when his shoulder protested the movement but he couldn’t deal with that now, he had to get Paz back onto the ship because if he let go— “Just—you gotta reach, I can’t—”

“I know!” Paz swung his free hand up, just grazing Din’s knuckles before swinging back out. His gloves slid down Din’s a half-inch. “Oh,  _ fuck _ —”

Din’s thoughts exactly as he grit his teeth, hauling at Paz with all his might. His shoulder screamed, his arm wanting to pop out of its socket but if he could just get a better grip, find a better angle—gods,  _ why _ had they let Yev trick them into leaving their jetpacks? “I got you, just hold on!”

“Din!” Paz’s hand stiffened in his, and somehow he just knew eyes were widening behind that black visor. “Din,  _ behind you _ —”

He strained to look over his shoulder, heart sinking when he saw Yev staggering toward him, stump of his arm crisp and smoking, his other hand holding a  _ kazna _ blade. Oh  _ shit, _ oh no, he couldn’t move, couldn’t defend himself while holding on to Paz, he had to get him inside  _ now _ —

“Din...” There was a tremor now in Paz’s voice, real terror and Din knew he couldn’t help either, couldn’t reach any of his weapons without letting go of Din’s hand and if he did that...

Yev coughed, shaky, and lifted his blade. Din looked to Paz, terrified and panicked because Yev was going to cut him down, kill him and Paz both and then who would look after the kids, who would take care of Jied and Avi and Lyrr and his beautiful, precious child...

And then Paz’s hand shifted in his, just a light caress, a clear message. A decision made. And even as cold horror rose inside him like a wave, even as he he tried to reach out, to stop him, Paz stared up at him, pale light glinting off his helm, and let out a shaky breath full of loyalty and determination and solid, fierce love.

“Always and forever,” he said, and let go.

Something screamed, animalistic and broken. It wasn’t Paz, and Din just barely realized it was coming from himself before Paz reached down to snatch his vibroblade from his boot and hurled it up at him—no, past him, the thrumming knife shooting by with a sharp  _ zing! _ to bury itself in Yev’s eye. As the bounty hunter shrieked and fell back, Din stared, everything inside him turned cold and numb as he watched that broad blue figure vanish into the clouds, swallowed up as if by a ruthless, unfeeling monster.

And then Paz was gone.

He was gone he wasgone  _ hewasgone— _

Behind him, Yev moaned. Din heaved up, not even recognizing the sound that tore itself from him as he fell on the bounty hunter, yanking Paz’s vibroblade out and stabbing it down over and over, until Yev’s cries turned to gurgles, then to nothing. Even then he couldn’t stop, smashing the blade down again and again and again, until his arm ached and his shoulder screamed, until he couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Until there was nothing left.

The blade fell from his hands with a clatter, covered in thick bluish-black blood. Din fell with it, collapsing onto the floor of the ship, staring up at the ceiling above, gray and solid and utterly uncaring. Felt that bright golden future he had built shatter and disintegrate like the dust surrounding the ship. Felt his heart do the same.

The man he loved with all that he was, who made him laugh and helped him grow and filled all the empty bits of himself with warmth and light, was dead. Once more the universe had stolen everything from him, reached deep into his soul and scooped out everything that mattered, and Din Djarin was alone.

Staring up at that lonely, faceless gray, he began to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure, being heavy infantry on the front lines, getting shot at repeatedly while having to lug around all that ordnance, Paz by definition needs heavier armor than most Mandalorians, with better coverage and more durability. Basically, I headcanon that his armor is kind of like a Spartan's from Halo. And since a Spartan can fall through atmosphere and be okay...

If you’d asked Din last week about the worst day of his life, he’d have had a few different options to choose from. The attack on his homeworld and the murder of his parents, for one. The showdown with an arrogant Imperial Remnant and the loss of a kind Ugnaught and a loyal droid, for another. 

But now.

Now.

He sat on the edge of the Razor Crest’s tiny rack, staring unblinking at the opposite wall. Further down, slumped against the weapons locker, Jied didn’t say a word, gloveless fingers bloody where she’d picked and scratched right through the skin. Din hadn’t tried to stop her, not when she screamed, not when she hit him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, and not now as she sank like a ghost into the grief, sallow and listless, as if she was the one who’d died. As if she was the one they were mourning.

He should be helping her, he knew. He was older, more experienced, the senior officer in all respects. He should be there patching up her hands, encouraging her to rest, making sure she got through this in one piece. But that would require him to be in one piece too, and he’d broken back on that ship, that instant Paz looked up at him and made his awful, stupid, honorable, devoted choice.

_ Always and forever. _

His heart throbbed with fresh pain and Din hissed, doubling over as he shut his eyes tight. What did he do now? They were still on Tal-Agu, the Crest parked near a local market where they’d left her that morning. Oh gods, just that morning, just a few hours ago. In that short amount of time, just an eyeblink in the timeline of the universe, Paz had...

His vision blurred with tears, fresh salt on his tongue. He didn’t try to stop them. What was the point? Paz Vizsla was dead. He’d come along on this job to help Din, to support his child, because he loved them both and wanted only to see them happy. And Din had repaid him by letting him die, leaving Jied brokenhearted and Avi and Lyrr without a father.

Was there any iteration of the universe in which Din Djarin didn’t break the thing most precious to him?

Back by the weapons locker, Jied made a pained noise and shrank into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and dropping her helm to her chest. She looked so young, so small and fragile Din almost couldn’t bear it, watching this once-strong woman who had come to mean so much to him, who would have become his daughter one day.

Because he’d intended to marry Paz, before the universe ripped all the happiness from him.

_ Always and forever. _

His body seemed to move of its own accord, everything distant and strange as he rose slowly from the rack and crossed to the medstation on the far wall. The kit was still open from when Paz had rifled through it yesterday, and he selected a bacta spray before reaching up for the small cloth bag tucked into the very back corner. An outsider wouldn’t have recognized it but it was standard for anyone who followed the Creed, because even though you could live your life honorably and wonderfully and never do ill, sometimes the universe was still ruthlessly, impersonally cruel.

“Jied.”

She didn’t respond at first, didn’t even seem to hear him, trembling as she tried her level best to disappear into her own body. Din sighed and reached out to grasp her wrist. “Daughter.”

She lifted her head at that. Din gave a gentle tug and she let him take her hand, spraying clear bacta carefully over torn, bloody skin, watching as the wounds stitched themselves together with ease. If only their hearts could do the same.

When he’d finished with her other hand, Din set the spray aside, lifted the bag, and shook its contents out onto his palm: a ball of thick black twine, supple and soft, made from a material that seemed to take the light around it and absorb it down into nothing. Fitting, really, given what it was for.

As Jied stared, Din removed his left glove and unsnapped the vambrace, drawing the sleeve of his tunic up to reveal bare skin. Then he held the twine out to her and took a deep breath. “Will you start it for me?”

She didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t mind—or care, honestly, because this wouldn’t bring Paz back, wouldn’t heal the giant cracks rent across the ruined landscape of his soul. But it was what was expected, given what he’d intended with Paz, so he would honor the love he’d lost as the Creed dictated. This was the Way.

Slow, tentative fingers reached out to take the twine. Jied swallowed and nodded, just a tiny movement of her helm. “I...I would be honored,  _ Buirok. _ ”

Din closed his eyes, felt the soft caress of the twine around his wrist, and let fresh tears run down his cheeks.  _ Paz, _ he thought, breathing through the pain.  _ Please be at peace, wherever you are. _

#

He woke with a jolt, drowning, water and salt and pain and—

Paz choked and heaved himself sideways, just barely managing to tear off his helm before he was retching into the sand. His stomach churned, lungs burning and holy fuck that had to be at least a gallon of seawater, how the fuck was he not dead?

He gasped greedily for breath, coughed, spluttered, tried again. Everything gave out and he slumped back in the sand, staring up at the pinkish-brown sky. Holy fuck, he  _ hurt: _ his back, his shoulders, even his fucking  _ eyelashes _ what the fuck, and Paz groaned, tried to file the pain away like he’d been trained as he started to get to his feet—

Agony seared up his leg like a live wire and he collapsed, pressing his face to the sand to muffle the scream. Oh fuck holy fuck god fucking  _ damnit _ , what the fuck was that, had his whole fucking leg been cut off or something—but no, he could see it now, still solid beskar down to the boot except holy shit his leg should  _ not _ be bent that way, and was that white thing a fucking  _ bone _ sticking out?

Oh, Issik’s  _ balls. _ Panting, he reached down, biting back a whimper as he felt around the beskar plate over his knee for the...gods this was gonna hurt, he fucking hated this but it wasn’t like he had a goddamned—

Something beeped and servos whirred, and the armor encasing his leg abruptly snapped straight, followed by fresh lightning tearing through his nerves. “ _ Gyahh, _ ” he cried and fell back, breathing thinly through his nose as his head swam and tears spilled down his cheeks. Gods,  _ fuck, _ he was so fucked, and if he couldn’t get up on his own then Din would have to—

_ Din. _

Breath whistling between his teeth, Paz reached out, groping around in the sand until he found his helm and slid it back on. The familiar darkness was comforting, at least, everything narrowed down to the view through his visor, and he reached up to dial in his commtac with shaking fingers. “F-Fuck. Din. Jied? Paz to the Razor Crest, copy.”

Static. He groaned and barely resisted the urge to slap the side of his helm. “Will you fucking— _ Din! _ Can you hear me? Somebody!”

Still nothing. The comm sputtered, spitting only white noise, and Paz growled and turned it off. Fucking typical. He was on his own.

And where the fuck even was he?

Of course, blinking up at that fucking  _ orffa _ vomit-colored sky, he remembered what had happened. Yeah, so Paz Vizsla wasn’t the sharpest blade in the arsenal but he wasn’t  _ stupid _ , he tracked most things just fine and he’d taken enough concussions throughout his life for his brain to kind of just know when to turn off and then turn right back on again. So yeah, he knew he was still on Tal-Agu, and he’d gone with Din and Jied to take a job that hadn’t been a job at all because instead it was that creepy-ass bounty hunter with  _ yuul _ -rat testicles for eyes who wanted to kill Din and his child and—

And he’d saved them. Din, and Jied, and Avi and Lyrr and the unnamed little one—they were safe now because of him. He didn’t regret letting go of Din’s hand back there on the ship. He couldn’t, not when the entire way down, as the dust clouds around him disappeared and the ocean loomed up awful and deep, all he could think was  _ They’ll live for me. _

And then he’d hit the water and the whole world became pain, and that should have been the end of it, except.

Except now here he was, somehow still breathing and in (relatively) one piece, lying on a sandy beach as gentle waves broke along the shore a few feet away, a soft rhythmic whooshing that might have been relaxing except for, you know, the  _ situation. _ Paz huffed and, given there didn’t seem to be anyone around to see, gave himself the luxury of dragging a palm across his visor. At least this was familiar, right? Lying here on some godforsaken planet with a fucked up leg, alone and unarmed, having recently been attacked by terrible wildlife. Thanks, Universe, that was clever, how about we try something different next week?

He swallowed, throat tightening. Because truthfully, this wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. Last time, he’d woken confused and terrified in a jungle cave to Din’s silver helm hovering worriedly over him. And gods, if something like that had happened again, if he’d somehow managed to pull Din off the ship with him or, Lothir forbid, let Yev finish him off...

No. The important thing was he hadn’t. There weren’t a lot of things Paz was sure of in this world, not after all the terror and loss he’d experienced, but he did know one thing: he loved Din Djarin, sometimes so much it scared him. Din with his warm laugh and soft heart, his unending love for his kid and loyalty to the tribe, his occasional idiocy and utter inability to cook anything more complicated than field rations, had somehow become the most important person in Paz’s life, the magnetic pole he oriented himself to, the bright center of everything he believed in. After losing Kian—and gods, sometimes that still hurt like sickness, like death, like everything awful in the world—Paz hadn’t thought he would ever feel this way about anyone again, not because he didn’t believe in it but simply because nobody was supposed to love someone with his scars. But Din did. He saw Paz at his very worst, brittle and angry and falling apart, and loved him anyway. And Paz had no idea what he’d done to deserve this second chance, but Issik help him he was going to grab onto it with both hands and never let go.

Somehow or other, the universe had decided against all odds to keep him around. So Paz was going to take advantage. He was going to get up and forget about his fucking leg and swim across the entire fucking ocean if he had to, to get back to his kids, and to Din.

There just wasn’t any other road for him to take.

“You?”

The voice came out of nowhere, startling the shit out of him and Paz spun, grabbing for a weapon that wasn’t there. The creature standing nearby shuffled back a step at that, but didn’t actually look scared. It was one of the Tal-Agu locals, some sort of...had Din called them amphibious? Like frogs or something? They certainly didn’t look like frogs, more like upright-walking seals, all thick brown fur and whiskers and dark, glassy eyes that blinked slowly at him as the creature repeated, “You?”

Paz shifted back, hissing when the movement sent a fresh stab of pain up his leg. It didn’t look dangerous, only about three feet tall with smooth webbed fingers and flat herbivore teeth, but who knew? He’d once thought a Burungian rabbit cute and tried to pet it and nearly got his whole arm bitten off, so he was taking no chances. “Stay back.”

But the creature either didn’t understand or didn’t feel like complying because it took another step forward, and oh shit, there were more, coming up out of the trees and across the sand, easily a dozen, then two. Paz swallowed and lifted his right arm. The only working weapon he had left was his grappling hook, fuck lot of good that’d do now, but maybe if he attacked one the others would panic and scatter, Din  _ had _ said they were telepathically connected or something like that, right?

Then the creature reached up to touch its long, tapered snout, drawing its hand across its face in a smooth, specific motion. “Mask,” it said.

Paz blinked.

“Mask,” the creature repeated, before pointing at him. “You?”

Issik help him. Paz kept his arm up. “The hell’re you talking about?”

The creature huffed at that, sounding exasperated. Then it puffed up its chest, screwed up its face in concentration, and enunciated slowly, clearly, as if it were digging the word out of some deep, long-lost memory. “Man-da-lor-i-an.”

“Oh.” He still had no idea where this conversation was going, but at least they knew his people, and didn’t seem to hate them on sight. “Uh. Yes. I’m one.”

The creature nodded and turned to the others. Here followed some sort of communication Paz couldn’t categorize: it looked to be part body language, all flicking ears and twitching whiskers, but there were also some honking noises and long bouts of absolute silence during which, he assumed, they were using that fancy telepathy of theirs. Then at last the creature turned back to him. “One,” it said, pointing at Paz, then lifted its finger to the sky. “Three?”

“Look, I really don’t—” And then it hit him. “Oh. Yes! There were three of us total. Do you know where the others are? Have they left yet?” Because gods, if Din and Jied had already flown off Tal-Agu, if they didn’t know he was still alive and he had no way of reaching them...

The creature inclined its head. “Still here,” it said, and Paz nearly crumpled with relief.

“Oh, thank fuck.” He jammed his hands into the sand and shoved up to seated, ignoring the angry complaints from his leg. “I have to—I gotta get over there, do you understand, they think I’m dead so I have to go.”

But the creature only blinked at him. The others behind it hummed and chittered amongst themselves, shuffling around in the sand, and Paz bit down on the spike of frustration. He had to keep a lid on it; the last thing he needed was to scare them away. If they could just show him where to go, whether he was on the right island or needed to somehow get to another one...

And then the creature turned to the crowd behind them and made a sharp hissing noise. The multitude of bodies scattered, parting like a rolling wave to reveal...oh. Well, fuck. Paz let out a soft, shaky laugh because yeah, okay. Maybe he and the universe were even after today.

“Ride?” the creature asked, indicating the hovercraft, old and beat-up but obviously in fine working condition.

Paz nodded, uncaring that he was probably grinning like a maniac under his helm. “Yeah, I...yeah. I could use a ride.”

#

It was time to go.

Din set the kit back on the shelf and pressed the button to fold the medstation. Jied was up in the cockpit going through the startup sequence, and out past the open ramp the market bustled on, locals scurrying back on forth on their furry webbed feet trading goods Din neither recognized nor cared about. Tal-Agu had brought them nothing but betrayal and tragedy. He’d be glad to leave it behind and return to the safety of the Covert.

Except the Covert wasn’t safe anymore, was it? Now that Yev had infiltrated them, they were exposed. Who knew what parties the slimy bounty hounter had passed his intel to? Moff Gideon wasn’t the only person out there who hated Mandalorians. They would have to relocate. Thalkikk was no longer a sanctuary, no longer home.

Not that it mattered. Without Paz, nothing mattered anymore.

“Din?”

He turned to see Jied standing at the bottom of the ladderwell. She still looked small and fragile, just one misstep away from crumbling, but at least she was talking more now, voice raspy and thin from crying. She nodded toward the upper deck. “We’re ready.”

“Okay.” He took a step forward. “Are you...you want me to fly?”

Jied looked away, hugging herself like she couldn’t help it. “No, I’ll do it. I just...I need to get off this planet.”

Didn’t he know it. “Yeah.”

Jied sighed. “I think once we fire up our afterburners I might finally feel—hey!”

Din turned to see one of the Tal-Agu locals standing at the bottom of the ramp, one webbed foot on the smooth metal. It cocked its head; curious, maybe? Din frowned. “You, get off that. We’re leaving.”

“You heard him! Scram!” But Jied’s shout seemed to have the opposite effect: more came up to join the first, gathering at the ramp, some slowly making their way up, all of them staring with their strange orb-like eyes.

A little worm of discomfort shivered down Din’s spine. The planet’s amphibian locals had mostly left them alone until now, so why the sudden interest? And why were there  _ so many _ all of a sudden, holy shit, had to be forty or fifty at least, streaming out from the market, converging on the Crest like a swarm of bees. What was going on?

Then the one who’d first stepped onto the ramp looked up at them and spoke. “No fly.”

Its voice was surprisingly low for its small stature, and the ones behind it quickly took up the cry. “No fly. No fly.”

Din shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on but you’re not stopping us.” Even as he said it, though, he could see several of the creatures scrambling up the Razor Crest’s struts, pulling themselves up onto its wings with surprising dexterity. They didn’t weigh enough to actually make a difference, but it was unsettling to say the least. Why were they so insistent?

Jied marched past him then, stomping down the ramp to face down the swarm of creatures. “We are. Leaving!” she hissed. “So get. The fuck. Off!”

But the first creature just raised a hand to point at each of them in turn. “Two,” it said, and then pointed somewhere behind itself. “Three.”

“I don’t care!” Jied’s voice cracked and she drew her blaster. “Get off our ship!”

Din rushed forward. “Jied—”

“Your fucking planet killed my father!” she yelled, high-pitched and vibrating with grief. “He’s gone and he’s not coming back so fucking  _ let us go! _ ”

The blaster trembled in her grip and quickly Din reached out to seize it, turning her around to face him. “Jied, don’t! He wouldn’t want this!”

But she just shoved at him, shouting. “No, he wouldn’t! He wouldn’t want  _ anything _ because he’s dead!”

Which was when, looking past her shoulder, Din spotted movement near the back of the market.

He froze, everything inside him stuttering to a stop. Because there in the distance, limping slowly forward on a makeshift crutch made from a metal strut as the crowd of furry creatures parted before him, was a large figure armored in dark blue.

Jied hesitated, then turned to follow his gaze. The blaster dropped to the ground. At the bottom of the ramp, the creature reached up to lick its paw and give its whiskers a clean, looking extremely self-satisfied as it said, triumphantly, “Three.”

And Jied wailed.

The crowd of locals scattered, whether at the sound or simply because they were trying to be helpful Din had no idea, but neither did he care because Paz heaved himself forward, dropping the crutch as his daughter flew into his arms, clinging to him as she wept, no words, just long high keening noises that made Din’s heart throb in his chest. Paz, for his part, crushed Jied to him so close he probably cut off some circulation, ducking his head, broad shoulders shaking.

Din tottered forward, world spinning. It was... _ Paz was here, _ somehow he was here and alive and how...? But it didn’t matter how. It just mattered that he was, and it was like he blinked and suddenly he was across the market, gaping down as Paz looked up at him, armor streaked with salt and sand and yet still real, real and here and beautiful.

For a long moment they just stared at each other, the only sounds that of the market around them and Jied’s quiet sobs. And then Din licked his lips and said, like a child, “You’re alive.”

Paz grunted, the smile evident. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

And then all the breath whooshed out of Din and he staggered forward into his partner’s waiting arms, almost smashing their helms together in his hurry to get close, to feel him, to know Paz was here and not just some crazed fragment of a hopeless dream. And as Paz hummed and drew him in, Jied still crying between them, Din sighed and dropped his head to his partner’s strong shoulder and let himself laugh, thick and wet and oh so happy.

Paz had gone, but then he’d returned because somehow the universe knew Din needed him, that he was otherwise incomplete. As far as signs went it was a pretty shitty way to show Din Djarin what was truly important, but he’d take it. For Paz, he’d take anything.

It was an incredible thing, to love with the force of something the size of all that had ever existed.

#

“ _ Ah, _ shit—”

“I know, I’m almost done.” Din locked the splint, then quickly pressed the suppression patch to the bare skin of Paz’s knee. The little white dot dissolved immediately and Paz sighed, relaxing with the rush of painkillers.

“Whoo boy. Haven’t tasted that in a while.”

“Enjoy it while you can.” Din kept his touch gentle though as he carefully wrapped his partner’s leg. The locals only had regular bandages and they’d been low on bacta to begin with, so this would just have to do until they returned to Thalkikk.

Outside the Crest, the market was winding down along with the day, Tal-Agu’s deep orange sun just starting to flirt with the horizon. Jied had fallen asleep a little earlier, Paz murmuring softly as he stroked her hand, and was now little more than a lump on the rack beneath the thin blanket. Din had made sure to spend some time in the cockpit at first, granting the two Vizslas some much-needed privacy, but as soon as Paz sat down and asked him to help him with his leg he hadn’t been able to stop touching him, just wanting to be close and remind himself that Paz was actually here.

He did the same now, rising up to to sit next to Paz, pressing against him from shoulder to hip. His partner hummed and wound an arm around his waist, comfortable and secure. “You okay?”

Din huffed. “I’m not the one who fell out of a plane and broke my leg in three places.”

“Hn. Sounds like a dashing hero.”

“The galaxy’s biggest idiot, more like.”

“You giving up your title?”

“You won it with flying colors, asshole.”

Paz chuckled at that, a low rumble up his chest Din felt more than heard. “Ouch. Point taken.”

They settled into silence, the sounds of the planet humming on around them. Din sighed and pressed closer, uncaring that he probably looked like an oversized child trying to crawl into its parent’s lap. Even though Paz was here, solid and strong against him, part of Din still shivered with the fear that one moment he would blink and suddenly his partner would be gone, vanished into the ocean and the ether of an uncaring universe, leaving him to suffer on alone. It terrified him, the thought that he really could lose Paz at any moment, because he’d experienced it once already and he knew now what would happen.

If Paz died, Din would disappear with him. There wasn’t another way. You couldn’t live without a soul.

Paz shifted then, trying to accommodate him. One hand slid over Din’s wrist and under the sleeve of his tunic, seeking out skin, then faltered. “What the...”

Din, for his part, didn’t bother to move, leaning almost his entire body weight on Paz as the older man slid dark cloth up, slowly revealing the intricate web of black twine that started at Din’s wrist and looped in even, interlocking diamonds all the way down to his elbow. “You wove a mourning sleeve,” Paz said, a bit breathless, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Yeah.”

He was close enough to see Paz’s throat work as he swallowed. “But...we’re not married.”

Din did lift his head at that. “No?”

Paz just stared at him. Din huffed and heaved up to standing, turning to glare down at his partner. “‘Always and forever,’ Paz. You said it first, remember?”

He’d never seen the older Mandalorian look so  _ thrown _ , shifting back against the wall, large hands opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I...I didn’t—”

“What?” The anger burst forth, hot and sharp, and it was only Jied still asleep a few feet away that kept Din’s voice even as he hissed, “You didn’t what? Didn’t think you’d have to face me after? You thought you could just say something like that and then go off and die and just  _ leave me here _ with the whole world crumbling around me? Is that it, Vizsla?”

Paz flinched. “That’s not what I—”

“No. Fuck you, Paz.” Din barely resisted the urge to reach out and smack him across the helm because he couldn’t believe Paz didn’t understand this. Why couldn’t he see...why did he still  _ think... _

“You don’t get to act like it’s just you anymore,” he said, everything inside him thrumming with fury and helplessness and spiraling, desperate love. “Because it’s not. It hasn’t been since I hauled your sorry ass out of that cave.  _ I’m _ here now, Paz, whether you like it or not, and your choices aren’t just yours anymore, they’re  _ ours _ . They’re mine, and Jied’s and the kids’ and the Covert’s, and you don’t get to be a lone wolf anymore, not when what hurts you hurts all of us.”

He took a deep breath. “If you don’t want that, fine. I’ll leave. It’ll fucking break my heart but I’ll do it because I can’t. I can’t do this again, I can’t watch you disappear and lose everything that gives me meaning, I just  _ can’t. _ It’ll kill me. So either we break up or you finish what you fucking started, Vizsla, because I’m done waiting. Pull your goddamned head out of your ass and  _ tell me what you want. _ ”

Silence settled between them, broken only by the buzz of the market outside, Jied’s low mumble as she turned over, and Din’s own soft, hissing breaths. He stared down at Paz, trying to lock down on the rolling, churning emotion. He just...he needed Paz to  _ understand _ , to know that this wasn’t just a passing whim for Din, that it never had been and never would be. The machinations of the universe had brought them together, two entirely opposite people who somehow fit each other like they’d been made for it with their brittle, jagged edges and torn, bleeding hearts. Din could have easily sworn off love and family after losing everything that fateful, terrifying day when the Empire invaded his homeworld. Similarly, Paz could have chosen bitterness after Kian’s death, could have hardened his skin and pushed everyone away so he’d never hurt again. The fact that they hadn’t done this, had instead picked themselves up and sewn their souls back together piece by stubborn piece so they could keep on living for those they cared about...it showed they were made of the same basic stuff, two imprints off the same shining, unbreakable mold. 

It was time they recognized what that meant. It was time they gave a name to what they’d built together. 

Then Paz, at last, let out a long sigh. It was tired and fairly exasperated, yes, but also shot through with an undercurrent of determination, of pure solid loyalty as he reached out a hand and said, “Come here.”

Din obeyed, edging forward until he was seated almost in Paz’s lap, knees on either side of Paz’s broad thighs. His partner hissed a bit when the pressure jostled his leg, but he didn’t seem to mind it much as he took both of Din’s hands in his and said, low, “I have only myself to give.”

And even though he’d expected this, hoped for it, Din still found his heart swelling, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe as Paz continued, “My name, my deeds, my history. I did not choose the path I was born into but I choose the one on which I will die. I march with you, together in all things, settled and bonded in blood and soul.” 

He squeezed Din’s fingers then, warm and assured, solid and unwavering as a starlit sky. “Thus do I ask with all of my heart. Din Djarin, will you take me as clan?”

And goddamnit, there were the tears again, but Din couldn’t even bring himself to care. Paz wouldn’t judge him for it, and he leaned forward, pressing their helms together with a soft  _ clink _ , just a thin layer of metal between himself and the other half of his soul. 

“Always,” he answered, “and forever.”

And, gods. Maybe even longer after that.

Paz let out a shaky breath, broad hands settling at his hips. Din, for his part, just lifted his hands to rest on Paz’s shoulders, smiling through tears as he traced the shriekhawk signet with his thumb. He didn’t know what would happen with that, whether he’d end up wearing one of his own or Paz would instead take the mark of the mudhorn. But neither did it matter. Right now it only mattered that they’d made their promise. That bright, shining future was theirs once again.

Paz hummed then, nudging gently at his helm as if wanting to get closer. “Fuckin’ weird day,” he murmured. “Woke up hungover, died before noon, now engaged by sunset.”

Din snorted but didn’t move, stroking gently beneath Paz’s beskar rerebrace. “Wonder what tomorrow’ll be like,” Paz added, and he did laugh then, warm and secure in the knowledge that, behind that deep blue helm, his partner was smiling right back at him.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said, holding Paz close. And the best part of it was? They both knew it was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all at the wedding!

**Author's Note:**

>  **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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